


Reunion

by Katinar



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 10:01:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8201020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katinar/pseuds/Katinar
Summary: When Amara said she wanted to give Dean what he wanted most, he never expected it to be Mary.





	

“Mom?”

Dean stared at the blonde woman before him in disbelief. None of this could be real. He had seen Sam’s room fill up with fire all those years ago. Based on what their father told them about  that night - their mother contorted in unnatural angles pinned to the ceiling before spontaneously combusting - there was no chance she could have been saved. If her bones had still been around, he figured there could have been a chance; after all, how many times had he and Sam died only to miraculously be brought back to life? The arson investigators didn’t know how the fire had started, but they did know the fire had burned hot enough to turn her body to ash. Without bones, Dean highly doubted it was possible for something to bring her back.

So how was she there?

He watched as Mary looked at him with confusion flickering over her face. It couldn’t have been a trick, not with the glint of recognition in her eyes at the sight of him. There was no way a demon or monster could fake an expression that genuine. Before he knew it, Dean was standing in front of her. He had been able to see her a handful of times in the past when he was thrown back in time or as part of a hallucination, but each time it had been too good to be true. If Amara considered this to be a gift, he could only hope this time would be different.

“Dean?”

Hearing her say his name, Dean suddenly felt like a kid again. He stood motionless as Mary reached out and placed her hand on his cheek. He had half expected her touch to be cold, or for her hand to phase right through him as though she were only a manifestation, but when he felt her warm flesh against his, all thoughts  left his mind. He closed his eyes and allowed himself a minute to relish the feeling. He knew it was stupid to be so trusting without doing the usual tests, but without holy water or silver, he just had to believe her.

“How are you here right now?” he asked, finally opening his eyes and dragging himself back to reality.

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head and lowering her hand from Dean’s cheek. “I don’t really remember anything.”

“Not even…” Dean trailed off mid-sentence. He wanted to say Heaven, but part of him worried the typical hunter’s fate - Hell - was where she had been dragged after her death.

“No,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “The last thing I remember was going into Sammy’s room after I realized your father wasn’t there. That, and helping you boys with the poltergeist at the house.”

Dean frowned, but he couldn’t say he was surprised. When he had been brought back from Hell, it took months before he could clearly remember anything. He had the occasional flashback, but exact details had to gradually come back. He had only been in Hell for months, Mary had been wherever she was for _years_. It wouldn’t surprise him if it took as long as it took him to regain any memories, if not longer.

“Well, let's get out of here. I bet Sam’s gonna flip when he sees you,” Dean said, looking around their surroundings. When Amara left with Chuck, Dean had been transported who knew where. It was a pretty open field, and it looked like it was pretty well maintained, so he figured they couldn't be too far from some sort of civilization.

“Where is Sam anyways?” Mary asked, looking around them for any sign of the younger male.

“He's back at the bunker,” Dean said simply, but when he noticed the confusion on Mary's face he continued to explain. “Sam and I found this place a couple of years back while working a job. It's a long story, but we've considered it to be home ever since." 

“Why’s Sam there instead of here with you?”

“Another long story,” Dean said, shrugging before nodding his he's to his left. “How about for now we get out of here?”

“Sounds like a plan,” she said, and the two began to walk in the direction Dean had motioned. “We should stop for some clothes too of we come across a shop,” she added, “People might end up concerned if they see me walking around in my nightgown.”

Dean paused in his tracks, looking at the white gown she was wearing. He had been so taken by surprise by her sudden appearance that he hadn't even realized what she was wearing. He shook his head and resumed walking to catch up to her again.

“Yeah, I didn't even realize,” he did with a slight laugh, “We'll see what we can find. In the mean time, here…”

He removed his leather jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Mary smiled and reached a hand up to cup Dean's cheek once more. He returned the smile before wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

***

It was hours before they found the outskirts of a town, and Dean was relieved. He had been worried they were going in the wrong direction, but when houses began to pop up on the horizon, he felt more at ease. They had walked mostly in silence, which Dean was mostly grateful for. It gave him time to figure out a plan. Whenever Mary spoke, he had found himself stopping whatever he was doing or thinking to listen to her. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it wasn't conducive to coming up with a plan to get back to Sam. Without his car, getting back would be harder than he had wanted, but it wasn't something new. He just wasn't sure Mary would exactly approve of the plan.

As they walked, more and more houses began to spring up. What had started off as only one or two houses had turned into rather pleasant-looking neighborhoods. As they entered one of the neighborhoods, Dean slowed his pace and scanned their surroundings. He was grateful it was still dark out, though he wasn’t sure exactly what time it was. If he wanted his plan to go off without a hitch, he hoped it was still late.

“What are you looking for?” Mary asked.

“A car,” he replied, avoiding looking at her. He didn’t want to see the possible shame on her face upon discovering her son seemed so casual about stealing a car.

Dean pointed to their right as he began walking at his regular pace again, spotting a car sitting in front of a two-story house. It wasn’t his Impala, but it looked like it’d be simple enough to hotwire. He walked up to the driver side door and glanced around once more, keeping an eye out for anyone that might spot them. He tried the door handle and sighed in relief as the door popped open. _That’s the good thing about small neighborhoods,_ he thought, _everyone leaves things unlocked._

He gestured to the passenger side door to signal Mary to get in, and after a brief hesitation on her part she got into the car. Dean looked around one last time before sliding behind the wheel and pulling the door shut. He pulled a pocket knife from his back pocket, relieved he hadn’t decided to leave everything behind, and used the blade to pry the plastic housing off of the underside of the wheel. He leaned back to look at the wires and stripped the plastic coating off the right ones before leaning forward. He bit his lower lip and his brows furrowed together as he touched the wires together, trying to get the car to start. He grinned in success as the engine purred to life. Not wanting to risk someone inside the house hearing the car running and coming out to check, Dean put the car in reverse and pulled out of the driveway. Now that they had a car - and a general idea of where they were with the license plate reading Nebraska - it would be simple enough getting back to the bunker.

“Stealing cars, Dean?” Mary asked, and Dean looked over at her.

“It’s not really a common thing,” he explained, looking back to the road. “I still have the Impala, but it’s back at the bunker.”

“You know we could have just asked for a ride into town...”

“It’s better this way. If we did that, they’d start asking questions, and Sammy and I aren’t exactly on good terms with a lot of law enforcement.” Dean felt guilty basically admitting to her that her sons were essentially criminals, but it was the truth and he’d feel bad for even thinking of lying to her. If she really was back, she deserved to know the truth about what their lives entailed.

“It’s not like we want to do any of it,” he continued. “Hunting’s just gotten different. With everything that’s gone on in the world, the usual methods that dad taught us aren’t as effective. Sometimes the old tricks work, but most of the time in order to save people, we end up having to do some things that aren’t exactly legal.”

“Like?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched Dean. He sighed, glancing at a sign on the side of the road. _This is going to be a long drive._

“Like impersonating FBI, security, cops, priests, things like that. Any sort of authority figure, really,” he said, shrugging.

 Mary sighed and shook her head. “Well, at least that doesn’t seem to have changed over the years. Your grandfather used to do the same. Not to that extent, but very similar.”

Dean looked over to Mary and a grin found its way to his face when he noticed she was smiling. 

“Bet you never expected your kids to end up as hunters, huh?” Dean asked, sitting back in his seat to get comfortable. Mary shook her head.

“Honestly? No, I didn't. When I was pregnant with you, I admit part of me wanted to keep hunting. I knew what was really out there and I knew I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself if something had happened to you and I could have prevented it,” she said, folding her hands in her lap.

“But at the same time,” she continued, looking at Dean. “I didn't want to risk you losing me. Or your father, because if he found out he wouldn't have let me continue hunting without backup. So I gave it all up. I figured if I needed to, I could keep the house safe, and that was enough for me. I thought I finally got out, but that night…” She trailed off, looking to her right and watching the trees slip by.

“Hey,” Dean said, his voice low as he reached over to take her hand in his. “You couldn't have known. And Sam and I grew up pretty okay. We might not have had a normal childhood, but we managed.”

Mary smiled sadly and nodded, squeezing his hand.

“I just wish you boys could have had a regular life,” she said with a sigh. “I remember growing up hunting. My parents - your grandparents - began teaching me at a young age, but I didn’t actually go out on a hunt with them until I was 16. I just wish the same could have happened for you two.”

“I know,” Dean said, glancing at her. He squeezed her hand in return before withdrawing it to grab the wheel again with both hands. “If it’s any consolation, Dad was pretty hesitant about getting us into hunting. He gave us as normal of a childhood as he could given the circumstances. Sammy especially, he had more of a normal life than I think I did.”

“Speaking of your father, how is he?” Mary asked.

Dean cleared his throat and continued staring straight ahead at the road. He had been dreading the topic of their father coming up. What was he supposed to say? _Oh, yeah, Dad sold his soul so I could live. He's been rotting in Hell for years now._ There was nothing he could say that wouldn't make the news easier for Mary to digest.

“What happened?” Mary asked, and from the tone of her voice Dean could tell she knew something was up.

“He… uh… He died. About ten years ago,” Dean said, his grip getting tighter on the steering wheel and causing his knuckles to turn white. “We were going after the demon that killed you. We found it, but we weren't prepared. We all got hurt pretty badly, and we were driving away to find a place to lay low for a while and a semi crashed into us. I ended up in a coma, almost died. We never got the full picture, but Sam and I figured dad sold his soul to save me.”

When Mary didn’t respond, Dean took his eyes off the road briefly to look at her. She was staring down at her lap, seeming to be absorbing the news given to her. It had to be a shock, especially since last time she was alive she had gotten out of the hunting business. Dean doubted she would have ever expected her husband to get into the business, and definitely not her children.

“Mom?” Dean asked, breaking up the silence that had fallen between them.

She hummed and lifted her head, looking to her left at Dean.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern in his voice.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m okay,” she said, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears. “I just… I didn’t think… I tried so hard to keep all three of you out of this life,” she said.

Dean didn’t respond, because what could he really say to that? _We did it to get revenge on the son of a bitch that took you from us. We did it because Dad was so obsessed with vengeance that he dragged me and Sam down with him instead of letting us have a normal childhood._ There was just no response he could give that wouldn’t make Mary feel worse than she likely already did.

His grip loosened around the wheel as they sped down the empty highway. The fuel gauge showed they had a little more than half a tank of gas left, which Dean figured would get them far enough away from where they had taken the car that they could top off the gas and get Mary some clothes without having to worry about someone recognizing the vehicle as stolen. A quick glance at the center console showed Dean it was 2:53 in the morning. If they timed things right, they’d need more gas just in time for some clothing stores to be open. He wasn’t sure which credit cards he had on him, he was just glad he had decided last minute to put his wallet in his pocket before they had left the bunker. Stealing cars was one thing, but getting clothes was something they needed money for.

It was four hours before Dean noticed the fuel gauge showed they were getting low on gas. Mary had fallen asleep with her head resting against the window, and Dean had done his best to stay quiet to let her sleep. The blue signs along the side of the road said there was a gas station at the next exit, and with it now a reasonable time, he figured there had to be a store they could get at least a few items of clothing for Mary. He pulled the car towards the exit as they approached it, and the deceleration of the car caused Mary to stir. She sat a little straighter and stretched her arms out in front of her.

“Why are we stopping?”

“Need to fill up the tank,” he said, reaching forward to tap the fuel gauge.

Dean kept an eye on the signs as they drove along, finally pulling towards a gas station. As though it were pure luck, there had been a small mom and pop clothing store right next door with the neon open sign lit up. _Well that makes things easier._ Dean pulled up to the clothing store first and stopped the car in a parking spot before squirming in his seat to withdraw his wallet from his pocket. He pulled a credit card from the card slots - one for a Mr. Edgar Wallace - and handed it over to Mary, who looked it over with a frown.

“Stolen cards?” she asked with a sigh.

“Not stolen, just used a fake name,” Dean said with a shrug. “Look, I’ll explain it all later, okay? Just tell them it’s your son’s card and that he’s across the street getting gas.” 

Mary shook her head but slid the card in the pocket of Dean’s jacket before getting out of the car. Dean rolled the window down and poked his head out.

“I’ll be back, just going next door to get some gas.”

He watched as Mary nodded and gestured for him to go before pulling open the door to the shop and heading inside. Part of Dean was hesitant to leave her, even if it was only for a few minutes. With a heavy sigh, he put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot, driving back across the street to the gas station. He parked next to an open pump and got out of the car, heading inside to pay for the gas - and a couple bottles of water - using cash. With bottles in hand, he went back out to the car to put the nozzle into the tank. He leaned into the open car window to put the bottles into the cup holders before leaning against the door, keeping a hand on the pump handle to hold it in place.

Dean stood a little straighter as he saw Mary depart from the store, not having expected her to finish so fast. He couldn’t help a small smirk forming on his lips as he saw her dressed in jeans and a yellow plaid shirt with Dean’s leather jacket folded over her arms. _Must be the Campbell and Winchester genes._ He lifted a hand to wave her over and turned his attention back to the gas pump as it clicked off. He withdrew the nozzle as she reached the car, and he put it back before turning towards her.

“What’s the grin for?” Mary asked, tilting her head curiously.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” Dean said, shaking his head before gesturing to the car. “Let’s hit the road. It should be only a few more hours until we get back to the bunker.”

Mary nodded and handed the credit card back to Dean before walking around the car to get into the passenger seat again. Dean slipped the card back into his wallet before getting behind the wheel, starting the car up, and pulling away from the gas station.

***

As Dean pulled up to the front entrance of the bunker, he couldn’t quite explain why something felt wrong. He shut the car off and got out from behind the wheel, listening as Mary got out behind him and shut the door behind her.

“Dean? What’s wrong?”

He turned his attention to her and offered a slight smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” he said, though he didn’t sound so sure of himself. He started walking towards the front doors, Mary falling into step behind him. It wasn’t until they got closer to the door that Dean noticed something unsettling.

The front door was cracked open.

Dean cursed under his breath and instinctively reached behind him for a gun before remembering he had gone unarmed. He groaned and dropped his hand back to his side. He pushed the door open with the tip of his boot.

“Stay behind me,” he said quietly to Mary. The two entered the building slowly and Dean stood at the top of the spiral staircase looking down into the bunker, listening for any signs of movement below. When he heard nothing but silence, he crept down the stairs slowly, the only sound coming from his boots hitting the metal beneath his feet.

Once on the bottom floor, Dean scanned the area. Nothing seemed out of place, but the lack of Sam’s presence made him uneasy. He walked from the console room to the library and paused in his tracks when he noticed blood on the floor. Cursing under his breath, Dean threw caution to the wind as he looked around.

“Sammy?” he called, voice echoing in the empty rooms.

“Dean, what’s going on?” Mary asked, her voice still hushed as she looked at the blood.

“Sam, come on man, where are you?” he called, ignoring his mother for the time being. He spotted his cell phone on the table and went over to pick it up, using speed dial to call Sam.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered as it went straight to voicemail. He pushed his phone into his pocket and ran a hand through his hair, trying to fight down the panic rising in his chest.

Sam was gone.


End file.
